


Saving Tony Stark

by justanothernerdgirl



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Idiots in Love, M/M, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6247834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothernerdgirl/pseuds/justanothernerdgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Pepper leaves, Happy comes up with a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saving Tony Stark

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta Azaline who both prompted this work and edited it. You're an amazing cinnamon roll. Her work can be found here http://azzylion.tumblr.com

Tony had always been too much or not nearly enough. In the end, it was a combination of both that had driven Pepper away.

He had burned his bed and replaced it twice in the first month, but never once slept in it. He supposed it must be Happy who would carry him up from the garage upon his collapse around the seventy two hour mark, but he never found the need to question how it was he ended up on the living room couch night after night. When he was truly exhausted, he didn’t dream.

He first discovered this somewhere around Mark VI. Pepper would wake him up in the middle of the night, her eyes wide and her face flushed, asking him in quiet, hurried tones if he needed anything, if he was alright. 

'Alright' was such a funny word when he thought about it. It was somewhere between okay and a fuck-ton of misery. Unless English majors somehow adopted a scientific method while he was holed up away from society, it had no baseline, no real substance. 

He would nod and smile, anyway. Yeah, Pep. I’m fine. I’m gonna get some water. You go back to sleep.

He would splash cold water on his face and scoop some into his mouth in the bathroom, the one with the Jacuzzi tub that Pepper adored, and feel his throat spasm around the intrusion until he choked himself awake. 

Then he would listen until he could hear Pepper’s quiet breaths even out and slip quietly downstairs, carrying a minimum of seven shots of espresso with him. He resolved to never let her see him that vulnerable again, never let her feel that afraid. 

The habit carried on after she left. He slept better without the nightmares, anyway. Eventually, he stopped fearing sleep altogether and when he finally lost consciousness either under the hood of his father’s car, on the workbench, or atop a keyboard, he found he didn’t mind.

Happy did though. It started when he convinced Tony to move back to New York. Tony hadn’t fought much. New York was quicker and had more people, more minds, more distractions, and especially more pizza delivery services. The Avengers used the Tower from time to time—unofficially, of course. They knew they were welcome, though many avoided it or seldom were able to visit. Banner had his service work, Natasha and Clint were still active agents, and many of the newer members stayed in SHIELD facilities while they endured training. He suspected those facilities had some weird mind control voodoo which kept people from leaving because even Wanda, a teenager, hadn’t once rebelled against the curfews and boundaries. 

 

She was, however, Phase Two, Week One. 

Happy was never scientifically intelligent but he had a huge heart and an elegance learned from one too many episodes of Downtown Abbey. Still, his loyalty until now had been top notch. Besides JARVIS, Happy was Tony’s best friend. Tony tried not to think about the fact that he paid his best friend to die for him.

This mission, however, involved no death, except perhaps that of Tony’s soul. His already limited freedom and independence withered away through a series of emails. Phase One involved Avengers meetings which were unnecessary and more often than not broke out into fights. Sometimes they were serious and left scars, but more often than not they culminated in ordering from both Chinese places because Natasha preferred the orange chicken on 47th and Cap insisted on the Mongolian beef on 16th. 

He had, after all, “been in this city for much fucking longer, and I swear to god, Stark, if you say one word about my –“  
“What, Cap? language?” Tony finished with a smirk. Steve’s eyes narrowed before Clint cleared his throat, shifted his glance toward the young witch, and suggested they not do this “in front of the kids” to which said young witch did not respond kindly. 

Sometimes Tony thought Steve just liked to fight. 

Nonetheless, the meetings stopped working. Natasha and Cap figured out they were a hoax pretty quickly and had more important things to do than movie nights and gossip. As did Tony, by the way, not that anyone asked. 

As the Avengers’ nights together dwindled, so did Tony’s contact with the outside world. Sure, he made appearances at galas and conferences, but he left quickly when Pepper would inevitably appear (still CEO of Stark Industries), trading black tie for black sweatpants within the safety of his lab. He never liked the noise of other people, especially at events where the women laughed a few too many times without having something to hide and the men spoke in voluminous, boisterous tones about having completed something Tony could have invented in the fifth grade or, worse, something their children actually did invent in the fifth grade. 

Hence Phase Two. 

Tony didn’t notice it at first. There was nothing particularly odd about Wanda’s sudden skyrocket in security clearance. She was an Avenger, with the same rights and intelligence as Cap or himself. Well, maybe not intelligence per se, but she had a charm and an intellect Tony would be foolish to ignore. Sometimes Tony worried about the lack of supervision of the Avengers. He wondered if he was the only one who felt like a child playing with napalm before learning how to even light a candle. 

There were small signs: fresh flowers by the windows, peanut butter jars left on the counters, and a surprising number of new recordings on his DVR. Honestly, he just thought Happy had found himself a good woman.  
And then one day his inventions started to fly. And he didn’t program them to do that. 

“Hello?” Tony glanced around, trying to find a shadow out of place or a racing heartbeat in the quiet other than his own. He called for his glove and the rest of the suit followed. “Show yourself”.

A quiet giggle. Tony didn’t drop his arm. “This isn’t funny! How did you get in here?”. 

“Why, Mr. Stark, I’ve been living here for a month!” Wanda appeared around a corner, a smile lighting up her face as she dropped the items softly back to their designated resting places. Tony finally relaxed and the suit melted away. 

“A month? Could have at least said 'hello'. I hear it’s customary before stealing someone’s peanut butter. Not that I mind some sticky fingers, but… Wait, are you in trouble? Is that why you’re here? Is there a mission? I swear I have to teach Fury how to use an iPhone! He never calls. A little hurtful, really, after our countless nights together.” Wanda laughed. 

“I’m saying 'hello' now.”

“Hello.”

“Agent Romanov is coming over tonight. I thought you should know.”

“Are we having a party? Painting each other’s nails and talking boys? On the second thought, hard pass. Got some work to do here. Feel free to canoodle though. Just remember, there are security cameras. Wouldn’t want to get up to anything too devious.” Tony turned back to his work bench, his vision blurring slightly. 55 hours. 

“Mr. Stark? Tony?” 

“Yes, Witch?”

“You’ll want to sleep soon. Can’t have that brain getting any madder than it already is.”

“Yes, Mom.”

That seemed to satisfy Wanda, as she left, her heavy footsteps marking her departure much less inconspicuously than they announced her. 

He didn’t see her much after that, except when her music was too loud and he’d go to tell her to turn it down, sounding like a stern, disappointed parent. Mostly disappointed in her musical tastes, really. 

Every three days, though, there were new flowers in the living room and leftovers in the fridge. The pizza boxes and Chinese cartons lessened ever so slightly in frequency. 

He should have known this was Happy’s doing right then. The fresh shasuka in the morning, the warm shwarma at night, and the dumplings smelling up the Tower showed a deviousness that Wanda had rarely displayed. He was eating. 

Week Three brought Natasha and Clint. They used the excuse of a mission gone wrong, needing to be out of the spotlight for a bit, and Avengers Tower was stocked for a zombie apocalypse better than any other building in the world. They could lie low for years without having to leave the premises. 

Nat, however, was never one to allow herself a late morning and Clint was all too ready to assure Tony of the fact that they’d be leaving just as soon as they got clearance. And if Tony thought he saw Happy wink at Clint or Clint stick out his tongue in return, he attributed it to a caffeine induced delusion. 

The late-night music got louder when Natasha and Wanda discovered their many similarities and sometimes there were fireworks thrown off the roof that may have been attached to Clint’s arrows in a recent update of his hardware. So much for laying low. Tony decided that’s probably not why they were really there anyway, especially with the increasing frequency in which he would wake up in an actual bed after drinks with his roomies. 

Clint left soon, but Natasha stayed around, muttering something about keeping an eye on their newest member and the ridiculousness of paying rent for an apartment in the city when she was hardly ever home. Her logic would have been sound, if not for the several hundred hiding holes he knew she kept stocked with clothing, food, and medical supplies across the city ranging from boarding rooms in halfway houses to luxurious hotel suites. 

By the time Cap and Rhodey returned to the Tower from their super secret 002 deployment somewhere they absolutely could not tell Tony about (it had taken about three hours to find out exactly where in the caucuses mountains they were stationed after they left), Black Panther, Winter Soldier (who still glared at Tony every chance he got but now added a smirk to his criticism), Natasha, Wanda, a host of SHIELD agents, Spider-Man, Ant-Man, and Banner all moved in “temporarily”. They even established Sunday night dinners, which Cap would drag Tony to literally by the folds of his collar and almost never contained the entire squad, but were always home cooked and held the promise of more laughter than the Tower had ever seen, even during his and Pepper’s golden era. 

Cap was the most difficult transition for Tony. He had already become used to regular showers, meals, and sleeping spaces. The Tower was an organized mess but it was organized nonetheless, and if he wanted to impose a curfew for music he had promised his freeloaders that he would also impose the same curfew on anything that might combust. It wasn’t enough for Cap though. 

The first day he moved in remained the only day anyone had actually asked. Tony had been working on his cars that day, on his back under the engine, when the Stars and Stripes walked in. 

“Tony?” Steve called, looking around the chaos. His forehead crinkled, noting the food wrappers shoved into corners, the papers and diagrams dating back before Steve was born strewn across the ground, reflecting the blue light of Tony’s own designs above them. 

There was a hard thunk and a soft swear as Tony appeared, wiping the grease from his hands onto his pants and then through his hair. 

“What can I do you for, Capsicle?” Tony gave a small smile, but the weariness took over and from the looks of him, Steve was surprised Tony could even stand. Despite his concern, Steve couldn’t help but grimace at the moniker. 

“I was wondering if I could talk to you about something. Maybe over dinner?” Steve’s hands ached for the shelter of his jeans’ pockets but he had just come from SHIELD facilities and was still confined to his uniform. 

Tony watched him, wide blue eyes and nervous smile. It was amazing how someone so well adapted to protecting others couldn’t protect his emotions from playing across his face. 

“Would you like your own room or your own wing?” Steve’s head snapped up from where his gaze had fallen to the floor, perhaps out of misguided deference or respect. Tony smiled. “Because the fourth floor is open but honestly I think it’s haunted. Pep always said as much. Otherwise the thirteenth floor has two rooms. In fact, I’ll give you the one next to Hawkeye. Nice and quiet, you know? He’s never here much. Got the mini agents to look after.” Tony typed in some code to the database and assigned Steve to room 1305, transferring the security measures around the room over to him. Tony expected sputtering or even a fight, but Steve’s features simply melted into a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Stark.” He looked like he was going to move toward Tony, perhaps for a handshake or a hug, but then thought better of it. Instead, he asked another question no one had dared to pose. “How have you been since, you know?”

“What? Pepper leaving me? Blowing up New York? Washington? Sokovia? Fine. Really. I sleep, I eat, these freeloaders take care of me. I suspect it’s all Happy’s doing. It is, isn’t it! That bastard. He’s fired.” At seeing Steve’s shocked, guilty expression, Tony softened. “Nah, he isn’t. Just looking out for me, I suppose.” 

“When’s the last time you slept, Tony?” Steve squared his shoulders, as if preparing for a fight. Tony also straightened.

“Thursday.” He said proudly. It was only Friday right? Or maybe Saturday? Either way, nothing to cause a fuss over. But Steve frowned. 

It was Monday night. 

“Right.” Steve said with a scary amount of finality. Then, he strode over to where Tony stood and hoisted him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He turned towards the stairs, reaching for the lights on his way out.

“Put me down! JARVIS!”

“Yes, sir?” came the old, familiar voice.

“Stop Captain Rogers!” Tony ordered, still hitting and kicking in his attempt to wriggle out of Steve’s grasp.

“I apologize, sir. It’s been four days. I’m afraid I must agree with him. You’ll feel better after some overdue rest, sir.” 

“Traitor!” Tony yelled, finally stilling. “You can’t take me away now! I’m on the edge of curing cancer!” 

Steve finally faltered, just for a second. “Really?” he asked, in his low, quiet, wondrous voice. It never failed to stop Tony’s heart for a beat when Steve looked at him like he was brilliant. Which he was, obviously, not that Steve really understood the extent of it. Or often even seemed to care. 

But he did right now, and Tony couldn’t lie to him. “I can’t remember,” he answered honestly. He knew he had taken a break from research to work on his car and mull over the latest equation, but he couldn’t remember what it was he was even working toward. Maybe it was time for a nap. 

He thought he felt Steve card his fingers through his hair after setting him down in bed, but his thoughts faded to black quickly. He stayed in bed for the entire next day. When he awoke again, it was early Wednesday morning. He padded down to the kitchen, finding Rhodey awake at the same hour, probably losing a fight against jet lag. 

“Hey, buddy. Thought you were dead up there,” Rhodey greeted him. Tony smiled and sorted through the fridge, now full of protein shakes and vegetables. He needed Thor to move in next and instill some proper feasting habits into these cretins. Finding some stale lasagna, he smiled victoriously and pulled the entire tray out for the two of them.

“Takes a lot more than that to take out Iron Man. Thought you would have known that”. Tony winked at Rhodey who simply rolled his eyes and skimmed his fingers across his newly healed ribcage that had taken a beaten the last time they fought together. “Want a piece? Romanov actually has some cooking skills. She’ll make someone a nice house spy.” 

“No thanks, man. But I’d like to be there to hear you tell her that.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah, some of us have actually eaten in the last three days.” Rhodey’s voice held concern and accusation, which sat heavy on Tony’s shoulders. 

“I was at Sunday night dinner!” Tony protested. Rhodey couldn’t argue but let out a long breath. That was worse. It reminded him of Howard Stark. “How was the mission?” Tony ventured. Surely that was a safe topic. 

“It was fine. Very basic, actually. Your Cap….he’s a good guy.” Rhodey played with the spoon still sitting in his coffee, mixing in sugar that had long since dissolved. 

“He’s not my anything” Tony retorted without thinking. 

“I wasn’t implying – you fucker! You like him, don’t you?” Rhodey’s eyes bulged as he jumped in his seat. It was no secret between them that Tony had no gender preference, and a thing for blondes at that. 

“No! No, of course not. He’s –“ Tony looked for adjectives, wildly gesturing with his hands as images of every fight between them flashed before his eyes. The way that Steve wouldn’t back down, the way his eyes flashed bright before a challenge, the way he was so goddamn concerned all the time – “oh, shit.” 

Rhodey barely suppressed a delighted laugh. Tony had no time for this. “You do not tell him! I’ll mess with the Iron Patriot – don’t think I won’t. It’s A Small World will play every time you fly. You’ll shoot confetti out of your arms. Goddamn it, Rhodey, stop smiling!” 

Rhodey finally had the decency to look serious. “Just be careful, Tony. He’s only just moved in. Wouldn’t want to scare him off.” He smirked and Tony wished he could carve the sparkle out of his eyes. 

“Whatever, I’m going downstairs.” Tony moved to leave, before Rhodey caught his arm.

“I’m deploying again tomorrow. Call me if you need anything, alright?” Tony smiled. This was the closest he ever got to an I love you and despite that depressing fact, it was more than enough.  
“Be safe, ok?” Tony reached around and patted Rhodey on the back before finally making his way back to the lab. 

Later that morning, Steve brought him a proper breakfast and a condescending grin. “Feeling better this morning?” he asked, though he could already see a lightness in Tony’s movements and an energy to his glare that wouldn’t have been possible to manage last night. 

“You know, if you wanted me in bed that badly, you could have just said so, Steve.” 

“If Pepper couldn’t –“ Steve began but stopped suddenly, knowing he had gone too far. “Sorry, Tony.” 

“Yes, well, I’m not a thirteen year old girl. She moved on. She’s happy. So am I. I have JARVIS. He’s the only love I'll ever need.” Tony rustled through papers restlessly, the sting of Pepper still sitting with him.

“Thank you, sir.” JARVIS chimed in. Steve shifted his weight around before Tony finally gave him the break he needed.

“Go on then, Cap, don’t you have some saving the world to do? Leave me with my toys. Unless you have a request? A new motorcycle? Maybe a Mrs. Captain?” Tony teased. That was the rub, wasn’t it? Steve could be completely straight. He grew up in the twenties after all. Were people even gay back then? He was also incredibly annoying, just for the record. Something Pepper never quite managed. 

Steve rolled his eyes and finally left, leaving Tony to his work. But it seemed he had barely blinked before Steve was back.

He hadn’t noticed this morning, but Steve was wearing a loose sweater and very well fitted jeans. He was also moving through Tony’s lab as if Tony had invited him in. 

“I should really get a 'do not disturb' sign.” Tony said into his latest project, soldering iron hot in his hand. 

“Wouldn’t do much good. Come on, Tony, time for dinner.” 

“It’s not Sunday”.

“Yes, but it is seven at night. Come eat, Tony. Or do I need to carry you upstairs again?” 

Tony paused and then gave in. He was starting to feel like a zoo animal with keepers instead of the owner and architect of this damn Tower. He followed Steve upstairs. Dinner was quiet, but they maintained light conversation, mostly about the last mission and the rest of the Avengers. 

At the end, Steve moved to clear the dishes and Tony thanked him, before heading back downstairs. Before he could make it out of the room, however, Steve stopped him with a fierce, cold “Where are you going?” 

“To work?” Tony replied, confused. “I have a lot to get done. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“No,” Steve replied, “You’re going to bed. It’s late and your projects can certainly wait till morning.” 

“You can’t order me around, Captain,” Tony spat the last word like a curse, “I’m not one of your soldiers. I don’t need saving. I know what I’m doing. Goodnight.” 

Before he moved more than another step, Steve had crossed the room and pinned him against a wall. 

“Goddamn it, Tony, this is not a joke. You were on the verge of collapsing last night. I don’t care if this is normal. You’re changing your regimen. Starting tonight.” 

“Why do you care so fucking much what I do?” Tony pushed forward, his eyes meeting Steve’s, even as Steve’s arm kept him attached to the wall. They held each other’s gaze, until finally Steve’s glare softened and he removed his arm only to pull Tony in by the back of his neck for a crushing kiss. 

When he stepped back, he was no longer the fierce protector, but the scraggly, blonde kid his father’s records had once described. Steve’s shoulders were dropped, his hands buried in his pockets, his cheeks burning red. When he finally dared to meet Tony’s eyes again, he gave a shaky smile. In one quiet breath, he asked, “are you free tomorrow night?”

Tony’s brain flashed images: carnivals, parties, equations, inventions, countries...all in the futile hope of processing what just happened. Instead, Tony just found himself nodding and then his feet carried him quickly out, but not before Steve’s shocked, hopeful eyes had burned their image forever in his mind. 

Tony did retreat to his room, but he didn’t sleep. How could he? The object of his affections had just kissed him. It didn’t compute. There was no equation to explain to Tony how kind, brave, righteous Steve Rogers had somehow fallen for broken, headstrong, handsome as hell Tony Stark. He thought about the next night. There had been no real time set or activity planned, but this was Steve so it would probably be something traditional. Dinner, maybe. They’d sit and talk…and then what? Would Tony say something stupid or would someone attack them in the middle of dinner? An arch-nemesis coming to claim revenge or a homophobe shocked and disgusted at the actions of two of earth’s mightiest heroes? What if this does work and then Steve spends the night? Could he handle Tony’s panic attacks and nightmares? He doubted that somehow it would be different in Steve’s arms. 

Lost in thought, Tony hardly noticed the time pass until the sun rose and the room gradually lightened. He might’ve slept at some point during his panicking but the last eight hours were a blur of pacing and wrapping himself tightly in bed sheets to stop the shaking. He showered, throwing on jeans and a T-shirt and brushed through his hair. 

God what would he wear tonight? 

By the time Tony made it down to the lab, clothes had been strewn around his bedroom and he was still no closer to figuring out how a date with Captain America was supposed to work. This had never been a problem with Pepper. She knew him for who he was, and he never really tried to show her anything different. Maybe that was one of the reasons why she left: he had been too comfortable in his own destruction. 

A simple breakfast waited for him near his computer. Next to a croissant, an apple, and a strong cup of coffee, a note was scrawled: Pick you up at 8. 

Cocky, but then Tony had agreed the other night. He may have even kissed Steve back a little. 

“JARVIS?” 

“Good morning, sir.” 

“I need you to pull up the browsing history of room 1305, specifically Captain Roger’s computer.” 

“I think he would consider that an invasion of privacy, sir.” 

“Goddamn it JARVIS, I have a date with fucking Captain America tonight. I need all the help I can get.” 

“Some people might suggest just being yourself”.

“Those people are clearly saints or morons. Do you have the history?”

“Yes. And may I say, sir, congratulations.” 

“Thank you, JARVIS.” 

There were a lot of searches regarding recent history: the newest movies, politics of the last 50 years, etc. But there were some recurring patterns too, specifically searches for old movies featuring Humphrey Bogart and Cary Grant. Good. He could use this. 

If his stockholders could see Tony wasting the day on researching his suitor, they’d be furious. Then again, it wasn’t as if they hadn’t ever skipped a day of work to chase a skirt or two. 

By 8pm, Tony had watched so many black and white movies, he was starting to adopt a weird accent and his eyes were having trouble processing color. With JARVIS’ help, he finally chose a fitted blue shirt and trousers under his leather jacket. He ran his hands through his hair a few times, but there wasn’t much that could be done with it. He was just conceited enough to wink at himself in the mirror, and just insecure enough to wonder what the hell he was playing at. 

At 8:02, Tony had been sure Steve had changed his mind, but then a knock came on his door. He looked…so Steve. He wore a blue and white checked shirt under a brown leather jacket and his hair was styled so there wasn’t a single hair out of place. Tony wasn’t sure what to expect, but Steve looked perfect with his disarming smile and bright blue eyes. “You’re late,” Tony mustered. Stupid, stupid, why would you say that, stupid….

“Sorry. I forgot which room you were in. Ready to go?” Steve offered his arm and Tony took it before, in a bold moment of horrendous decision making skills, dropping his hand to lace his fingers with Steve’s. Steve didn’t pull back or stiffen, which made Tony walk a little taller as they made their way to the garage and Steve’s motorcycle.

“We can take something a little less public if you like…” Steve offered, holding a helmet in his hand, sort of halfway handing it to Tony.

“That’s ok, Cap. Unless you wouldn’t want to be seen standing right next to me? I know the comparison can be harsh, especially with the grey hairs coming in.” Tony teased. Steve relaxed and handed Tony the helmet with a small shove.

“You wish. Put that on and hang on tight.” Steve swung his leg over the motorcycle and revved the engine. Tony dropped the helmet on the ground, but he did wrap his arms tightly around Steve’s waist as he mounted the bike. “I trust you,” Tony said softly. 

It might have been his imagination, but Tony thought he could feel Steve’s smile. 

They ended up at a small Italian restaurant. Steve greeted the owner in a familiar fashion and explained that they had been stationed together during the war. The man was old, but the age difference hardly bothered Tony like he thought it would. It didn’t quite count when you were trapped in ice, did it? Besides, it was nice to see Steve so relaxed. He was always so tense in meetings, always watching everyone like he was assessing them as much as the threat towards them. This Steve threw his head back when he laughed and swayed slightly, and he had moments when he would just look at Tony tenderly for no reason. 

The conversation never lagged. They fought about movies and talked about work. Tony showed Steve his impressions of their friends and Steve sketched Tony on a napkin while waiting for the check. Peggy and Pepper were mentioned quickly within other subjects, but mostly ignored, the pain of lost love subdued in the excitement of a first date. 

Tony sang That’s Amore badly the entire ride home, making Steve laugh and nearly miss their turn. Steve, the gentleman he was, walked Tony to his room. The laughter and conversation halted in a tense silence. In front of Tony’s door, Tony turned to face Steve only to find his smile falter for just a second. 

“Tony,” Steve breathed and laced their fingers together. Tony reached up for a kiss and was suddenly pulling Steve in by the front of his shirt while Steve hooked his fingers through Tony’s belt loops. He wasn’t sure which one of them opened the door, or closed it, but it wasn’t long before the back of Tony’s knees hit the bed and he fell backwards with Steve on top of him. 

Steve’s eyes had turned dark and predatory, meeting Tony’s for only a second before kissing his way down Tony’s neck and licking across his collarbone while unbuttoning his shirt. Steve’s thumbs brushed over Tony’s nipples and moved down over his toned stomach before his mouth followed. Tony groaned and he felt Steve remove his pants and boxers, his cock hard and exposed. 

“Is this okay?” Steve asked innocently, batting his eyelashes and taking Tony’s moan as a resounding yes. He circled Tony with his tongue before taking him into his mouth. Tony held onto Steve’s hair with one hand and clutched the bed sheets with the other, before spilling over into Steve’s mouth with a shout. Steve moved back up to Tony, still fully clothed, and kissed him so Tony could taste himself in Steve’s mouth. 

Tony laid back, gasping for breath and then laughed, feeling better than he had in years. He wasted no time straddling Steve, kissing him as he ground himself against Steve, loving the sounds that produced. Steve took off his shirt, which really wasn’t fair because c’mon how was anyone built like that and Tony rid him of his pants, taking hold of Steve’s cock and using his pre-cum while he moved his hand up and down. Tony’s mouth was everywhere: sucking on Steve’s tongue, Steve’s neck, Steve’s fingers. When Steve came, it was a quiet shudder and it was everywhere, but Tony hardly minded. He grabbed one of their discarded shirts and wiped them off, before climbing back on top of Steve and stealing one more kiss. 

He blamed the orgasmic high for answering yes when Steve asked if he could stay. But the minute Steve folded him into his arms and began to drift off to sleep, both of them could feel Tony tense.

“What’s wrong? Is this…do you not want me here? Be honest with me, Tony.” Steve’s voice sounded confident, but Tony knew he was hurt. 

“No, it’s just…. I have nightmares. All the time. I wake up in the middle of night and I have panic attacks. It’s why I work all night…It’s why Pepper left.” Tony listened to Steve’s shaky exhale. “It’s not pretty. You could…if you wanted to go, that would be alright. Really. I think I just remembered some work I have to do anyway.” 

“No,” Steve growled, tightening his arms around Tony. “Stark, do you really think this is the first time I’ve seen PTSD? Do you think you’re the only one who goes into battle and comes out a little damaged? It’s fine. We’ll work through it. In fact, I have so many new exercises and tactics I’ve been using with some of the SHIELD agents back at base. Tony, I was in the military. I’ve seen everything. So don’t you use this as an excuse to pull away from me. I care about you too much and I won’t allow it.” 

Tony laughed a little. “I’m still not your soldier, Cap.” 

“No,” Steve acquiesced, “but I would like you to be mine, if you’d allow it.” 

Tony turned around and pulled Steve into one more kiss, smiling. “I think I could live with that,” he said. “Does this mean you’ll let me work on your bike?”

“In your dreams, Tony,” Steve responded, softening the blow with a kiss. “Sleep now.”

And, despite everything, he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and/or kudos if you liked the story!


End file.
